


Fresh Bat Spleen

by motherofmercury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Gen, Good Dad Draco, bat-catching, but that damned bat better not have the /audacity/ to bleed on his new trousers, draco will do anything to save his son, his son needs fresh bat spleen so by merlin will draco p r o v i d e
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofmercury/pseuds/motherofmercury
Summary: The potion that will save Scorpius Malfoy's life calls for 'fresh bat spleen', and everybody knows that Draco will go (literally) above and beyond to save his only child.  Even if that means going bat-catching in his abandoned attic of dark artifacts and portraits of his ancestors.





	Fresh Bat Spleen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightpeddler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightpeddler/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Softly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443495) by [starlightpeddler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightpeddler/pseuds/starlightpeddler). 



> This was written as a lil thing inspired by 'Softly' by starlightpeddler back in 2017 and I originally had it published on Quotev, but I thought it would be easier to move it over here. This oneshot makes a lot more sense with the context of 'Softly', but you can still read it without that context (although I very highly recommend the 'Quietly' series), this is just a bit of comedy Draco! xx

“Fresh bat spleen.” Draco mumbled, holding the parchment with the ingredient list up to the light in the dimly lit living room of the Malfoy Manner. “How fresh?” He looked up from the parchment and sighed deeply, placing it on the coffee table and looking up at the portrait of his beautiful Astoria as he stood. “This potion better work.” He said mournfully. Astoria just looked down at him sadly, a painted tear trailing down her face in the firelight.

Draco looked away and started towards the stairs. “Fresh bat spleen.” He muttered again. He climbed to the very top of the staircase and pushed open the door to the attic, careful not to make too much sound. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to discern the shapes of the smallish bats hanging from the rafters.

Is there a spell for catching animals? He scrunched up his face. There probably was, but he couldn’t remember if he’d ever learnt it. Well, at least there was a net over there. He tried to be as silent as possible as he crept towards the net that Scorpius had used to catch butterflies when Astoria was still alive. Draco closed his eyes for a moment in a vain attempt to banish the pain in his chest, but he hadn’t stopped walking. He smashed into the line of family portraits that sat against an old desk, dropping his wand and crashing to the floor as light flashed from his wand and the portraits began to wake up. The bats startled and began to hurriedly circle the room, shrieking.

“Draco?” Came the timorous voice of his mother.

“What are you doing you stupid boy?!” That would be Brutus.

“Draco, remove this blanket!” Lucius.

Draco launched himself towards the net by the wall, taking no heed of the shouts and questions coming from the accidentally awoken portraits. He jumped into the air, flailing wildly like a pelican on land in a vain attempt to catch one of the speeding bats with Scorpius’ small butterfly net. Failing in this initial attempt, Draco waited for the bats to settle down again before dragging a footstool out from underneath some random clutter.

“Draco! What are you doing, boy?!” Lucius called.

“Oh, shut up Dad.” Draco huffed as he dragged the footstool underneath a cluster of bats.

“THAT’S NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR FATHER!”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose but continued in his task, again ignoring the insistent shouts of the portraits. He climbed the footstool and stood on tiptoes to reach the bats in the rafters, but as he swung the net at them, he realised just why this particular footstool was up here in the attic of disuse. As he leaned towards the bats the footstool swayed dramatically and toppled over, throwing Draco to the floor.

“Got one!” He cried in triumph as he held up the net to examine the bat.

“Got what?”

“Draco, what?”

He didn’t answer the portraits, and as his wand was somewhere over by them, he gave up what little dignity he had left and wrung the creature’s neck with his bare hands. He stood up with the bat dead in the net and sauntered towards the portraits. He felt about in the semi-darkness until he found his wand and smugly said, “I’m saving my son.” And with that he cast the silencing spell back on the portraits and didn’t even bother to set them all upright.

Now all he had to do was gut the wee beast. “You better not have the audacity to bleed on my new trousers.” He muttered darkly.


End file.
